Drunk
by ImagineThis22
Summary: Joan remained on the stairs, still in shock by what had just happened. She felt the corners of her lips curl up into a smile as she replayed the scene. It was a real smile; something she hadn't been able to do since the accident. HINTS OF JOANLOCK ROMANCE ;D


Joan walked the length of the hallway and descended the steps sluggishly. When she reached the bottom, she poked her head in the parlor to find that no one was there. She went to the kitchen and sat, staring at the table. Joan listened for a creak in the floor-boards upstairs, but no sound came. She put her face in her hands and began to cry.

…

"What'll you have?"

"A triple tequila Cosmo, please." Joan replied. She sighed as the bartender left to fetch her drinks and felt the stinging of on-coming tears in her eyes.

_No. Don't you dare cry here._

The bartender placed the drink in front of her and she gulped it down, hoping all the pain would disappear. Joan began to think and before she knew it, she was ordering two more triple tequila cosmos. She drank, and drank, and drank. The pain just wouldn't disappear.

"I'm sorry but I'm gonna have to cut you off, darling." The bartender cleaned up her glass and wiped the counter.

"Alright…" Joan grabbed her purse and pulled out two twenty dollar bills. "Keep the change." She placed them in the bartenders hand and left the bar. She stumbled on the sidewalk and tried hailing a cab. When no cab would stop, she decided to walk home…alone. To anyone who saw her, she would probably look like a hopeless alcoholic. Truth is… that's exactly how she felt. She was drunk, too drunk to drive, but not drunk enough to forget where the Brownstone was. She climbed the steps and paused in front of the door.

_I can't go in there…I'm drunk! I'm supposed to be setting a good example for Sherlock by keeping his thoughts _off_ of alcohol. Hopefully he's asleep…_

She entered the Brownstone and regretted it immediately.

"Watson!" Sherlock called from the kitchen.

She took a deep breath and composed herself. "Yes?"

"Come in here please!" Sherlock called again.

Joan stumbled and gripped the staircase for support. She thought up a quick response to get away from him and spoke. "I- I'm really tired Sherlock. Maybe tomorrow…" She started to run up the steps as she heard him walking towards her.

"Watson, please. I need you to see this now." Sherlock appeared at the foot of the stairs.

Joan took a deep breath and fixed her hair before turning around. "Please, Sherlock. I'm exhausted."

Sherlock cocked his head to the side and took a step towards her. His eyes analyzed her and she grew uncomfortable.

"What are you doing?" She spoke and he met her gaze.

"Are you okay, Watson?" Sherlock turned on the light above the stairs and Joan shielded her eyes from the bright light.

"I-I'm fine." She blinked, trying to get used to the bright light.

"No you're not. You can't lie to me." Sherlock took another step towards her.

Joan took a step up on the stairs and swallowed. "I'm not lying." She looked above him, not at him.

"Look at me." Sherlock demanded.

"I am." She looked in his eyes for a moment before looking above him again.

"Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong." She faked a smile and he frowned.

"Tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, Sherlock! Why do you think something is wrong?" Joan leaned against the railing.

"You're eyes are red and puffy and you smell of…" He trailed off.

Joan closed her eyes as she realized she was caught. "Alcohol…I know."

"You're drunk." Sherlock didn't sound mad; he sounded concerned instead.

"Yes! Okay? I've had a shitty day and I went out for drinks! _Arrest me now_!"She yelled in frustration.

"You and I know that's not the reason you're drunk." He watched as her gaze drifted to the ground. "Now, I could deduce what it is or…you can tell me. Either way, I'm going to find out."

"I can't say it." She fought the lump in her throat and held back the stinging in her eyes.

"Joan…" He ascended the steps until he was on the same step as her. "Tell me." He placed a hand on her shoulder.

She looked up into his eyes and lost the fight to her tears. Joan felt the tears start to flow and she closed her eyes. "Today i-is the anniversary of the d-day when I lost a-a patient…" She choked out between sobs.

Sherlock instinctively wrapped his arms around her and let her rest her head on his shoulder. "It's okay." He felt her shaking as she sobbed on his shoulder.

She pushed herself away from Sherlock's embrace. "No it's not! I killed someone! Someone who had a family, a life!"

"It's not your fault Joan. Not one surgeon has ever not lost a patient." Sherlock replied calmly.

"No!" Joan began to sob again.

Sherlock tried to wrap his arms around her again but she pushed him away.

"I took a man's life! I'm a killer! I'm a killer!" Joan was in hysterics. She felt herself losing control of all her emotions and began sobbing uncontrollably.

"Joan!" Sherlock yelled but she didn't listen. "Joan," he put his hands on her shoulders, "it's okay." He looked into her eyes with concern. "It's okay."

Joan felt herself calm down a little. She was shaking and her face was soaked with tears. She avoided his eyes as she wiped her face and her nose.

"Look at me, Joan." Sherlock commanded.

She looked into his eyes and wiped the last tear away.

"It's okay." Sherlock looked down at her lips and smiled. "You'll be okay. I'm here for you."

"Sherlock, I appreciate that but- " She was cut off as Sherlock pulled her towards him.

Their lips met and he kissed with a passion Joan didn't know he possessed.

She pulled away and her mouth remained open in surprise. "Sherlock…I can't-"

"Shh." He pulled her towards him again and kissed her lips tenderly. "How about I make some coffee to sober you up?" He asked when he pulled away.

"Sounds good." She whispered.

He gave her one last peck on the cheek before he left to get the coffee.

Joan remained on the stairs, still in shock by what had just happened. She felt the corners of her lips curl up into a smile as she replayed the scene. It was a real smile; something she hadn't been able to do since the accident.

"Watson! Coffee is ready!"

"Coming!" She descended the stairs, headed for the kitchen with the smile still on her face.

Sherlock was standing with two cups of coffee in his hands.

"Two cups? Why do _you_ need one?" She asked, taking her cup.

"I think I may have gotten second-hand drunk…" He smiled.

She hit him playfully on the arm and he dove in for another kiss.

"I told you I was here for you." He whispered. He stepped away to pull her chair out for her and she sat down.

They sat there for the rest of the night as Joan explained to Sherlock the events of the day that changed her life. Sherlock consoled her when she needed it, held her hand when she needed support, and even shed a tear when she did.

Truth is, Sherlock cared for her. He cared for her more than anyone he had cared for before. He felt happiness and relief when he thought about all the years ahead of them. They would be partners; or who knows? Maybe they'd evolve into more…

Only time would tell.

_**THANKS FOR READING! PLEASE POST A REVIEW AND FAVORITE! I KNOW THIS WASN'T THE BEST STORY BUT I'M RUNNING OUT OF IDEAS! **_

_**:( PLEASE INBOX ME SOME IF YOU HAVE ANY :) I WILL MAKE SURE TO RECOGNIZE YOU AS THE PERSON WHO THOUGHT OF IT! THANKS AGAIN!**_


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